


Event Horizon

by Bubblekilt



Series: Horizon [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Before the abduction anyway, Crying in Space, Gen, Keberos Mission, Kinda?, pre-kerberos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 05:21:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15656604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bubblekilt/pseuds/Bubblekilt
Summary: As the first stage of the Kerberos mission nears Earth's moon to make a pit stop, Shiro reflects.





	Event Horizon

 

  Shiro looked out through the viewscreen, hands firmly clamped around the controls and his eyes everywhere except the heads-up display.

  Backed by stars, it shone steady through the screens on the bridge.  Stars, he had expected.  But the cold shine of the moon made the even the closer constellations look like faded bits of tinfoil.  Sure, the moon was pretty pedestrian, as destinations went—but even with the tiny colonies dotting the surface Shiro felt his stomach drop at the sight.

  Still entranced, Shiro heard Sam come up behind him, leaning over the co-pilot chair in a rare display of relaxed posture.  The light was glinting off his glasses, but it was easy to tell he was grinning wider than Matt had after Shiro had unwittingly quoted Star Trek.

  "Beautiful, isn't it?"                            

  "Yeah," Shiro said.  Sweet hell, his voice was clogged enough to be embarrassing.  His eyes were welling up, but he batted quickly at his face before the Commander could see.  "Yeah, it really is."

  "One of my favorite parts of being out here."  Sam kept his eyes on the viewscreen, and if he noticed the way Shiro wasn't looking at him, he didn't let on.  "We are floating at the edge of what was supposed to be possible.  Humans on the moon.  It always reminds me that no matter what's going on back there, we made it this far.  That's worth something, don't you think?"

  Shiro could only nod jerkily, pretending to focus on the readings for the acceleration output.  They'd be landing at one of the moon colonies to check the engines and do some press (a fact Shiro still wasn't entirely comfortable with), but it would take some time to get closer.  For now, there wasn't much to do but enjoy the view. 

  And cry, apparently.

  He was busy deciding whether or not he could manage to sniff quietly when Sam stood up straight, adjusting his glasses and stretching out his arms with a groan.

  "Better go check up on Matthew.  He's been alone for more than an hour, which spells trouble for you and me.  Page us when we're T10 from orbit, would you?"

  Shiro gave a tight nod.  The commander kept talking, something jokey about Matt's cataloguing progress, but Shiro didn't answer.

  Behind him, Sam let his hand linger on Shiro's shoulder before he slipped quietly off the bridge.

  Shiro just kept looking, drinking in the silver light that was starting to brighten the control panels and cast long shadows over the bridge.

  There was a quiet beep from the electro-stimulator at his wrist, a sound so sudden Shiro practically jumped out of his skin.  He stared down at the status indicator, still glowing a steady green after all these days of high-intensity flying.

  The edge of what was supposed to be possible, huh?

  Shiro knew a little something about the impossible, he supposed.  A lot of people had told him that he wouldn't make it past 15, that applying for a flight course he'd never finish was a pipe dream both charming and delightfully morbid.  Now, though—

  He found himself grinning, even as tears started sliding down his cheeks.  It was okay to lose his dignity just for a second, so long as he didn't have an audience.  He could be composed again in five minutes.

  Glancing at the heads-up, he gave a disgustingly heavy sniff. 

  Okay, maybe ten minutes.

  For a moment, Shiro just let his eyes take in the light, squinting in the white glare that was starting to build as they approached orbit. 

  There were long months ahead, days and weeks until they'd land on Kerberos.  He had a feeling he wouldn't get sick of the view—not really, not all the way.  After all, it was farther than anyone had ever thought he'd get.  There was something to be said for enjoying smug victory, especially in the face of Admiral Sanda and her cronies.  It was one thing to appreciate the fact that he'd made it out at all, but this was one of the best things about deep space missions.  You could feel detached from the Garrison's grand scheme, all the press and military grandeur.  It kind of made you appreciate how tiny you were, how many things were possible out here.  He'd made a lot of jokes about boldly going, but it was almost gorgeously ironic that being stuck in a pressurized tin can made Shiro feel like he could finally breathe.

  Other things would be waiting when he got back: Iverson, with a smug list of everything he'd done wrong.  Keith, if he hadn't gotten expelled or murdered.

  Maybe Adam, if he ever cooled down.

  In the building silver, though, with the curve of the moon's horizon filling the viewscreen and the unfamiliar lightness in his chest, he was having a hard time catching his thoughts. Glancing around, Shiro minimized the heads-up and let his eyes take in those frozen stars and the craggy surface of the moon in front of him, willing things to suspend for just a second longer.  He was trying to memorize the way the ice crystals shone a halo around the curve, a trail of light bleeding out into the darkness of the vacuum above.  The constellations that already looked so different than they had from his cardboard telescopes as a kid, a suspension that looked so incredibly delicate that Shiro found himself holding his breath.

  Because this feeling, out among the stars?

  It was a little like bliss.

 


End file.
